


Business As Usual

by Kaoru_chibimaster



Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Final Fantasy VII Remake, M/M, corny flirting, not so secret relationship, references to the compilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23918413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoru_chibimaster/pseuds/Kaoru_chibimaster
Summary: “Up shit’s creek without a paddle” didn’t begin to describe what was going on here. Orders to drop the plate, so-called SOLDIERs as bodyguards, Ancients (well, one Ancient) running around the slums unsupervised? What a mess.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	Business As Usual

**Author's Note:**

> Good god I haven’t even _looked_ at this pairing in _years_. Remake is really dragging me back to my old favs.

One helicopter ride back to base and it was immediately “back to business”. As usual.

Though, unfortunately, the usual business was slower than average due to, er…certain circumstances.

Certain _concerning_ circumstances.

“You want us to do _what now_?”

“I don’t,” Tseng responded, leaning his elbows against his desk with his fingers tented. To anyone who didn’t know him well, he looked perfectly composed: expression calm, appearance neat, and work affairs in order. There was something deeper there though, Rude could tell. Something unsettled. Tseng’s shoulders were tight, his brow slightly knit, and even his tone when he answered Reno was drier than normal.

“The President wants this. I’m simply relaying his orders,” he continued. The finality in his voice was as baffling as it was disturbing.

After all, why in the hell would President Shinra want to drop an entire sector of the plate on another? Just to take out AVALANCHE? As much as they were a pain in the ass, they weren’t worth this sort of destruction.

“What the fuck is the president playing at?” Reno tsked. He’d taken to pacing along Tseng’s office, hands on his hips as he stewed over a number of things. The sector 7 job, the failure both he and Rude suffered trying to bring Aerith back to HQ, the reason behind their failure…

That last one still stung. Reno had warned Rude about him and it would’ve done Rude wonders if he’d taken the warning seriously. “First-Class SOLDIER” or not, Aerith’s so-called bodyguard definitely had the power to back his claim up. It left him a thorn in the Turks’ side that they wouldn’t even get the opportunity to pull out now that this sector 7 business was top priority.

“I’d think it’s obvious what he’s playing at,” Tseng sighed, finally dropping the façade by an inch to rub at his temple. Frustration colored his tone, an agreeable and understandable sentiment. “AVALANCHE has been a constant irritant for longer than President Shinra cares to allow. We couldn’t stamp them out by force, so now it comes to this. They can’t claim to fight for the sake of the planet and the public if their ‘actions’ speak otherwise.”

“And that’s supposed to be better? Oh yeah, sure, thousands of people will die but let’s point fingers at the terrorists like a bunch of fuckin’ toddlers scrapping in Evergreen Park.”

“Reno.” Tseng’s interruption did little to stop Reno’s aggravated pacing, but he did at least clamp his mouth shut before he could make the situation worse. After all, nothing he said was going to change the way things were. When the President said jump, a Turk’s response was never anything but “how high”. “These are our orders, and we’ll carry them out regardless of our personal feelings towards them.”

Tseng straightened up then, shuffling his papers, despite how neat they’d already been, in stiff and jerky movements. Clearly just as bothered about this whole mess as Reno was.

Yet he had a point. It wasn’t as if they could say no; not unless they wanted the higher ups on their asses, questioning their loyalty. Or worse.

It’d just get shuffled onto someone else anyway. Saying no wouldn’t stop the President from having his way.

Still…

“Is there at least an evacuation order for the Shinra employees on topside?” Rude chanced asking. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe President Shinra would have the Slums evacuated, not if this was the point he was trying to make, but he at least figured…hoped there might be some mercy saved for the people who, like him, dedicated themselves to the company.

“No. AVALANCHE would be targeting those exact people with a stunt like this. Evacuating select citizens of sector 7 would draw unwanted attention the President’s way and sow seeds of doubt. Wouldn’t make for a good set up against AVALANCHE if no one believes it.”

“This is a really fucky way of describing dropping a town’s worth of people on top of another town’s worth,” Reno mumbled. An agreeable sentiment, but again…

“Nothing we can do about it,” Rude shrugged in response.

Their only saving grace in this situation was that the order hadn’t been officially approved just yet. The higher ups were in back-to-back meetings debating over absolutely nothing when it was clear that all of them, save for maybe the Director of Urban Development, were in favor of the same conclusion. It meant a lot of thumb twiddling for no reason beyond formality.

“Great. So what _are_ we doing?” Reno sighed, _finally_ sitting down—the pacing was starting to grate on Rude, even—in a slumped heap on the couch opposite Rude.

“Working.”

“What are those of us not named Tseng doing?”

Tseng sent an understandably unamused look Reno’s way. Rude kept his mouth shut at that. He wasn’t taking the fall for Reno being a smart ass…again.

“ _Working_.”

“On what? We’re on standby, remember?”

“I could always send you back to the slums so you can play around with your supposed SOLDIER friend if you’re so antsy.”

Reno growled out a few expletives under his breath at that, and even Rude couldn’t deny cringing a bit. He could’ve done without the bruises he’d gained in that little fight, both to his body and to his pride.

“He ain’t _my_ friend,” Reno huffed, ever the dramatic as he threw his hands up and pitched a fit. “He’s just some blond pretty boy with a big sword. Says he’s 1st Class but swings like a ninny. Don’t know how Aerith ended up screwing around with him.”

Despite the jab about Aerith, one that Reno should’ve known better than to say in front of Tseng, he was met with a curious look of surprise. It was brief; Tseng’s eyebrows only shot up for a split second when his attention shifted from his paperwork to Reno, but it’d been caught all the same by the time he replaced his typical mask of indifference.

“…Interesting.”

Nah. _That_ was interesting. Rarely did something elicit that sort of reaction from Tseng.

“You know him?” Rude asked.

Tseng sifted his stack of papers into a folder, finally done fiddling with them as he opted to pull out what looked like a stack of applications. No doubt, people applying for positions in SOLDIER or a job among the Turks.

“Never you mind.” A non-answer if Rude ever heard. “Regardless, I doubt he’ll be too much of an obstacle in bringing Aerith back. There are other ways to convince her to come willingly. In the meantime, if you need something to do other than burn a trail into my floor, you’re welcome to help me sort through new applicants.”

“Wow, way to try and push paperwork on me.”

Rude couldn’t help the tiny snort that escaped at that. Too-good-for-his-paperwork Reno over there was finally getting his comeuppance. It was about time _someone_ got him to do it.

“You laughin’ at me, asshole?”

And it was especially comical when he got huffy about it. Who was acting like a scrapping toddler in Evergreen Park again?

“Clearly you need something to keep your mind off things,” Rude said, voice collected despite the grin that started to pull at his lips. Grim circumstances considered, they all could’ve used something to lighten up with.

Reno was just an easy target to tease. At least, as far as Rude was concerned.

“Hey—”

“Here.” Tseng cut him off again as he waved a small stack of papers at Reno. “Take these to a shred bin.”

Judging by the color coding, they were all rejected SOLDIER applicants. Not many made the cut in general, but this stack was almost generously small. Standards for SOLDIER had become a lot laxer in the last few years, and with the director still AWOL, the whole organization was practically in shambles. If that guy, Cloud, really was a former SOLDIER, Rude didn’t think he could blame him for leaving. He was also admittedly all too grateful that it was only SOLDIER that had to deal with that mess. At most, the Turks suffered a few members going into “retirement”, but they certainly never dropped their standards.

“Buncha SOLDIER rejects?” Reno asked as he grabbed the stack of papers, examining them with bored disinterest. “What, no new applicants for our little Merry Band of Jackasses?”

“There was one that caught my eye, actually,” Tseng casually answered…despite this being not-so-casual news. It’d been too long since they’d had a new Turk, after all.

“Yeah?” Reno asked, glancing back as he, to no one’s surprise, dumped the stack of applications into the nearest trash can. “Who’s that?”

“Emma’s little sister.”

Oh? That was—

Actually, that wasn’t too surprising. Rude would’ve been more shocked not to see her show up on the Turks’ radar in some sort of way, and despite how young she was, she’d trained her ass off in both long-range weaponry and hand-to-hand combat.

Although he wondered if she was the best choice for a covert operative. Apparently, she could be…chatty.

“Oh yeah? What’s her face again…Eliza?” Reno asked.

“Elena.”

“I’m pretty sure she just signed up because she wants your balls, boss-man. Is she even old enough to drink? Is she allowed to be a Turk?”

Despite being accustomed to Reno’s crass commentary, Tseng still managed a small grimace.

“She’s old enough, Reno. Not that it’s really your concern. And anyway, you know my stance on workplace relationships. A stance you two consistently and blatantly ignore, might I add.”

This one again. If Rude and Reno had maybe a little more shame, they might put more effort into denying it. As it was…

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Rude’s a tits kinda guy, he wouldn’t go for anyone he works with here,” Reno said with the sort of conviction a complacent mako junkie might give at a _Stamp Out Drugs_ presentation in a primary school. Maybe someone’s hearing impaired grandma would’ve believed him.

“That would explain your refusal to follow dress code regulations then.”

Reno, ever the rebel, popped another shirt button loose and stuck his tongue out, earning an exasperated sigh from both Rude and Tseng.

“No one gives a shit. I do my job like anyone else, so I’ll wear my suit how I damn well please too.”

“I’d like to see you give that same excuse to the President.”

Amusingly, that shut Reno up.

Mostly.

“I’ve been wearing it this way for years and ain’t heard no complaints yet. Like to see the old man bitch about it now…” he resumed grumbling under his breath, if it could be called that considering how loud and clear every word was.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Rude pitched in, struggling to hold back a grin. Was he still teasing Reno? Absolutely. “I think the frumpy hoodlum look works for you.”

A flipped up middle finger was the immediate response, followed by a disgruntled “up yours”.

“Remind me why I called you two in here again?” Tseng huffed.

“Debriefing.”

“Thank you, Rude. Now remind me why you’re both _still_ here?”

“Good company.”

Rude quirked a grin at Reno’s quip and Tseng’s heavy sigh in response. For someone so composed, he could never quite uphold the image when confronted with his only two active duty Turks. Er, soon to be three.

“I’d imagine you’d find better company elsewhere. I don’t exactly have the luxury of lounging around until the President snaps his fingers.”

With that, Tseng returned to his menial task of sorting through applications and signing off on important papers, and Reno took that as his cue to settle down and flop back onto the couch. He lounged across it, hands behind his head, with an expression that crossed between mildly frustrated and thoughtful.

“You’d think,” he started, moving one of his hands from behind his head to point it at the ceiling, making the shape of a finger gun. “That he’d just ‘snap his fingers’ and bang.” Wrist flicked as if hit with recoil.

“AVALANCHE gone.”

“Their strength is hiding in plain sight. While the remnants of the first insurgent group retain their uniforms, most of their members walk among the masses masquerading as normal citizens. They have a base, but it moves frequently and thus far we’ve been unable to hold a location on it and snuff it out. If we could, they’d have been long gone,” Tseng explained, voice tellingly tired. More than likely, he’d been working on exactly what he described. Rude and Reno likely would’ve been as well if the Turks had more manpower. As it was, they’d both been assigned to recruitment and cleanup instead.

“And someone would’ve just taken their places,” Reno sighed in response, placing his hand back behind his head.

“Same with Shinra. Our use of mako has done nothing but make lives better. Should AVALANCHE succeed, do they truly not expect someone else to take Shinra’s place?”

A question to which there was no easy answer. More than likely someone would try to replace Shinra in the unlikely event that the organization crumbled. And in response, a successor to AVALANCHE would arise with claims of protecting the planet yet again. Round and round it went with no end in sight.

Although of course…

“This is all hypothetical,” Rude said. “It’s unlikely AVALANCHE will ever make a dent in Shinra, no matter how many of them there are.” They were unfunded, untrained, and ineffective. The president had caused more damage to his own property than those eco-terrorists could ever have hoped to achieve. This was on top of the amount of public outcry against them; soon to be compounded by the plate “collapse”.

“You’ve gotta point there, partner. Those crazy fucks are more likely to blow themselves up than actually make a difference. _Whatever_ difference it is they think they’ll make.”

Reno’s tone was bitter. Far off. Lost in memories of countless fights. The Turks had been stomping out AVALANCHE members for years and still more crawled out from the cracks. It’d gotten to the point where the subsequent loss of life was numb to them. AVALANCHE ceased to be people with homes, families, dreams… They were simply bodies to add to the count.

Round and round it went. A cycle with no end in sight.

“If it was that simple, they’d have long since taken care of themselves.”

Irritating as it was to admit, Tseng had a point there. For as amateur as the organization came across, it was still that. An organized effort. They had to have some idea of what they were doing to have not completely imploded.

“Ugh.” Reno was back to his dramatics, flinging his limbs over the side of the couch and making childishly sour faces that, despite his better judgement, brought a humored grin to Rude’s face. “This bullshit is depressing. What say you guys we all go out and get a drink?”

“Not now, Reno.”

Short and to the point as ever, Tseng.

“Well, Tseng’s out. How about you, Rude? You and me for a round at Wall Market?”

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re referring to drinks now,” Tseng mumbled under his breath, expression pinched in distaste at his own implication.

Not that Rude would be opposed to it if that was what Reno had been going for, but he knew for a fact that Reno was about as subtle as a sledgehammer through a wall. He most certainly meant drinks.

Not that Tseng’s comment hadn’t goaded him on anyway.

“Well hey, I ain’t complainin’ about a few more rounds on the house after,” Reno grinned. Amused, and more than a little glad for the much-needed levity, Rude had no qualms with joining in, much to Tseng’s ire. It wasn’t missed when he groaned and swiveled his chair around until he was facing away from them.

“Who says they’re on the house? Maybe you gotta work for it,” Rude snarked back, leaning forward with his elbows rested on his knees. Fingers interwoven, posture relaxed, donning a lazy smirk…interest peaked. It was on the table now, and drinks were slowly being pushed to the back of Rude’s mind.

They didn’t have much time for their private lives nowadays, but that just made the spark hotter on those few occasions they _could_ manage. ‘Fueled the fire’ so to speak.

“What kinda work we talking?”

“Only the finest. As expected of a Turk.”

“Oh yeah?” Reno sat up then, mirroring Rude’s stance with a slow lick of his lips and a burn in his gaze. Rude couldn’t help following the movement with his eyes, letting his mind wander as various scenarios of what else that tongue was capable of filtered in. “Well if you want me to work _harder_ , I’d better get some pretty damn good service in return.”

That he could do easily. Enthusiastically, even.

“Best you’ve ever gotten. Guaranteed.”

They were laying it on especially thick this time, so it was no wonder that whatever innuendo Reno was about to drop was swiftly interrupted by a very disgruntled Tseng.

“Can you two _please get a room?_ ”

Reno clicked his tongue at that, muttering a bitter-toned “cock block” under his breath. Rude couldn’t argue with that. Who knew when they’d actually get the chance to make good on that “round of drinks” in Wall Market.

He’d have to keep it tabbed for later.


End file.
